


What to Expect When Your Crewmates Are Expecting

by AuroraNova



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Bechdel Test Pass, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:20:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28493769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraNova/pseuds/AuroraNova
Summary: Seven experiments with compromise and applies herself to the latest challenge in regaining her humanity: a baby shower.
Relationships: Tom Paris/B'Elanna Torres
Comments: 10
Kudos: 35





	What to Expect When Your Crewmates Are Expecting

“My calculations are precise.”

Lieutenant Torres read the proposal with a facial expression indicative of intent to disagree. Seven was extremely familiar with that particular aspect of the lieutenant’s body language. “It’s not your math I’m worried about. It’s your risk tolerance.”

“The risk is within acceptable parameters.”

“ _If_ everything goes exactly the way you’ve calculated it. Look, Seven, I know you want to get up close and personal with this supermassive black hole, but your proposal is a combination of five different untested theories. One unforeseeable complication and the _Flyer_ could implode. I’m sorry, I can’t sign off on this.”

Lieutenant Torres was mistaken. Seven’s proposal drew on four untested theories and one with limited but promising experiments, and she said so.

“The answer is still no,” said Torres.

Despite her own scientific curiosity, Captain Janeway was not likely to authorize the modifications or the mission over the chief engineer’s disapproval. This would waste a unique opportunity to learn about a rare phenomenon.

“I’ll admit you have interesting ideas,” continued Torres. “I’d like to try some of these in less dangerous circumstances.”

“We routinely modify technology in dangerous circumstances,” pointed out Seven, considering the possibility that impending motherhood had made the chief engineer more cautious.

“Yeah, when we don’t have a choice and we’re dead if we don’t.” Torres tapped the padd. “If something went wrong, the transporter probably wouldn’t work with the gravitational interference. And even if it did, there’s time dilation. You’d be dead before we even got your signal. That’s not something we risk without a good reason.”

There had been a time when Lieutenant Torres would not have concerned herself with the possibility of Seven’s death. Reduced opportunities for scientific discovery were not mentioned in Seven’s research on forming emotional connections with one’s crewmates. An oversight, clearly.

“Perhaps if we test these theories, we can utilize them in the future.” At the captain’s suggestion, Seven had revisited her study of compromise. She still found the concept inefficient. Evidence suggested it was critical to many advances in human history, however, so she had resolved to attempt it when given no option to prevail.

“I’m open to that,” said Torres.

Seven concluded compromise merited further application. She would consider this further later. Now she had been assigned a task by Commander Chakotay and Ensign Kim, and while she still questioned their choice to designate the responsibility as hers, she did not wish to fail them. 

“Perhaps we can continue this discussion over a meal,” she suggested.

“Sure, why not? Tom’s on duty in Sickbay.”

As they made their way to the turbolift, Seven deployed a reliable subject of small talk. “Neelix was effusive in his praise for the vegetables provided by the Gn’Rani Tes.” _Voyager_ had rescued the moon’s princess when her shuttle was damaged by an ion storm, and in thanks received as many food stores as the cargo bays could hold. Neelix was enthusiastic even by his own standards. “He has promised ‘the most delicious vegetable soup you’ve ever had.’”

“I’ll believe it when I taste it,” said Torres.

Seven’s task did not appear to have been complicated after all. The lieutenant obligingly joined her in the turbolift with unflattering words about Neelix’s last soup, which in Torres’ opinion had contained an excessive amount of spices.

“If you do not enjoy Neelix’s soup, I recommend nutritional supplement twelve gamma three.”

“I’ll take my chances with the soup,” said Torres, and Seven had not expected otherwise. “So, tell me about these limited but promising experiments.”

Seven was pleased to comply. Lieutenant Torres was not prone to extensive small talk when she could be speaking about engineering instead, a trait Seven appreciated.

By the time they neared the mess hall, Seven expected she would receive approval for a new experiment. It would not be enough for closer observation of the supermassive black hole, but it might facilitate future scientific missions.

“We’d have to compensate for the inevitable energy surges,” said Torres, “but I think if we rerouted it through the…”

She stopped short when the mess hall doors slid open to reveal a large banner proclaiming _Congratulations B’Elanna and Tom_ , two tables covered in wrapped gifts, half the crew in attendance, and a cake. “Did you know about this?” she asked her husband.

“No. I found out two minutes ago.” Lieutenant Paris was plainly delighted by the surprise.

Torres turned to Seven. “ _You_ knew.”

“I was assigned to bring you here at precisely eighteen hundred hours.” Then, in case it had not been clear, she added, “I am still interested in pursuing the modifications we discussed.”

Torres nodded and let herself be led to the center of the gathering by Paris.

This ‘baby shower’ was Ensign Kim’s idea. He had enlisted Commander Chakotay’s assistance to ensure the duty roster met his needs, and it subsequently became clear that the commander had a talent for event planning. It had been Chakotay who suggested that Seven should bring Torres to the mess hall. “She’ll never suspect you,” he’d correctly predicted.

The captain had approved additional replicator expenditures for appropriately festive food and décor. She did not feel it was kind to inflict leola root cupcakes on the expectant parents, the mere suggestion of which had greatly disturbed Ensign Kim. He insisted upon testing the cake beforehand to make sure Neelix reproduced the traditional recipe to his satisfaction.

“Now, we have some traditional Earth food,” announced Neelix. “Sandwiches. I’ve prepared ham, turkey, and a vegetarian option made with something called hummus, which is absolutely delightful. And we have soup.”

He served Torres the first bowl and waited expectantly for her response. “It’s good,” she said, and Seven had not seen Neelix so happy in at least eighteen months.

Ensign Kim had prepared mealtime entertainment. He announced his intention to read off a list of childrearing advice. Crewmembers were to note on their padds where they believed the suggestion originated, and the individual with the most correct responses would be proclaimed the winner.

“What’s the prize?” asked Lieutenant Ayala.

“An extra day off next week,” replied Captain Janeway. This was well-received among the crew.

Seven did not wish for additional time away from her duties. She enjoyed her responsibilities aboard _Voyager_ , except for the needlessly tedious Starfleet reports. Therefore, she declined to enter the competition.

“Denobula, obviously,” muttered the Doctor when Kim read the first piece of advice.

Seven replied, “Perhaps you should participate.”

“It would hardly be fair to the others.”

He was correct. Seven resumed her consumption of nutritional supplement twelve gamma three. She thought most of the advice Kim had compiled had no value on _Voyager_ , although it was possible that she failed to grasp some applicability.

Ensign Wildman won. “Congratulations,” said Kim. “Enjoy your extra day off. Now, who wants cake?”

Everyone wanted cake except the Doctor, Seven, and Commander Tuvok.

“Are you sure I can’t talk you into a piece?” Neelix asked Seven.

“It’s really good cake,” said Paris, to Neelix’s delight.

Cake offered no nutrients, and as she did not concern herself with flavor, Seven saw no purpose to eating it. However, she recognized that doing so would reinforce social bonds. That was not entirely without merit, so she took the knife and cut herself a slice of cake exactly one centimeter wide.

“That’s not a piece of cake, it’s a bite,” said Paris.

“Neelix did not specify the size of the piece he wished me to eat.”

The cake was overly sweet. Seven discreetly removed the frosting after her first bite, after which she found it inoffensive but unremarkable. (Paris was incorrect. Her slice yielded four bites.)

“Expanding your culinary horizons?” asked the Doctor.

“No. I am signaling my membership in the group by following expected protocol.”

“Close enough.”

While Seven finished her cake, Paris and Torres started unwrapping gifts. According to Ensign Kim, this was a time-honored human tradition, though he was unclear on its origins. Seven would have expected replicators render it obsolete, but had learned it was not wise to underestimate the emotional appeal of tradition.

She had struggled with what to give as a gift. The process had entailed research as well as conversations with the Doctor, Kim, and Captain Janeway.

The Doctor opted to gift the lieutenants a sling which allowed an infant to be securely carried on the wearer’s chest, along with a selection of clothing.

Seven had not found that helpful. She did not believe her clothing choices were likely to be aligned with the preferences of Torres or Paris, though that concern did not appear to be shared by many other crewmembers. Clothing was a popular gift option.

Kim had made something called a ‘mobile,’ which Seven understood to be a device for infant entertainment. He’d crafted it with miniature replicas of _Voyager_ , the _Delta Flyer,_ and three shuttlecraft, and it played music he had personally recorded. When Paris declared it perfect, Kim flushed with pride. Seven took the idea of crafting a gift rather than simply replicating one. She still did not know what to make.

Captain Janeway gave Torres and Paris a library of children’s books which were designed to withstand chewing, and a bookshelf in which to store them. Seven had not realized precautions against attempted consumption would be called for. According to the captain, it was a well-known fact that babies put everything in their mouths, which was one of the challenges of babysitting a young child.

This reaffirmed Seven’s lack of desire to supervise the infant. Perhaps in the future, when the child was older, could communicate, and did not wish to insert inedible objects in her mouth, Seven would reconsider.

She had researched further and finally decided upon a gift which looked to be next in line for opening. This made her apprehensive, an unpleasant feeling she wished to avoid in the future.

“The reception of your gift isn’t a reflection on your humanity, Seven,” remarked the Doctor. She was not convinced. Humans seemed to find the task quite simple.

“This one’s got to be from Seven,” said Paris before he even looked at the label. “The wrapping is perfect.”

It was an agreeable association. She nodded and waited for them proceed with the unwrapping.

All Seven’s research had indicted rocking horses were common gifts. Upon overhearing Paris make a comment about not knowing exactly how fast he could expect his quarter-Klingon daughter to grow, Seven adapted her original plan. It later occurred to her that Torres had uneasy relationship with her Klingon heritage which may render the gift unwelcome.

“A rocking targ!” exclaimed Paris. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

Torres smiled. It appeared to be one of genuine appreciation, although Seven was still refining her interpretation of smiles. “Thanks, Seven. It’s great.”

“You’re welcome.”

Torres set the rocking targ on the table and set it into motion with her hands. “Cute. She’ll have fun with it.”

“That is adorable,” said Ensign Wildman.

“Congratulations, Seven,” said the Doctor quietly as Paris reached for the next present. “You’ve now mastered the art of baby shower gift-giving.”

Not for the first time, Seven reflected that a collective did not require neural links, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Attention writers, artists, and creators of all kinds: have you heard about the Star Trek: Just in Time fest? Works will be revealed beginning January 18th through February 8th. This event encompasses all Trek and all kinds of fan creations, centering on the theme of time. I hope you'll turn your muses to the theme and join us.  
> (If you're reading this in the future, check out the collection!)  
> [Details Here](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/justintimefest/profile)


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